


Mad Scientist

by OctopusGuardian



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Can be seen as Fatherly Hank, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, I mean I DO but like, I wrote this from like 10 pm to 2 am someone end me, If there's spelling mistakes I don't even care, friendship is the best, hostage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 07:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18139487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OctopusGuardian/pseuds/OctopusGuardian
Summary: Post best ending. Connor works with Hank at the Detroit Police Department and they solve cases.One call comes in near their closing shift, pushing the detectives to check out an old building before heading home. They really should have left it alone.In the care of an insane man who wants to create the first human-android fusion, both must work together to find a way out. This may spill more blood than intended.





	Mad Scientist

Connor slowly stepped through the doorway, gun closed in his hands. He tried his hardest to remain silent, but the old floorboards of the decrepit house let out groans under his weight. Across from him investigating the room opposite was Hank, who moved in a fashion similar to Connor.

The pair had been preparing to end their work shifts and head home when a call came in, giving an anonymous tip of androids vanishing around a large abandoned house. The station usually ignored or rarely checked into singular instances of the like, but with a quick cybernetic scan Connor was able to confirm the rumor using traffic cameras in the area and reports of missing androids from Jericho.

Hank begrudgingly drove them to the location, confirming with Captain Fowler before they left that they would call in after the investigation. The sun began to set already, the cold winter air biting harder in the falling light.

Now, having already entered, Connor cleared the first room, scanning his surroundings as he went. Small traces of thirium were on the floor, leading to the connected hallway. Connor followed the trail to a closed door.

With caution, Connor opened the door, peering inside. It looked like a living room, with an old rotting couch and table and a busted TV.

The trail grew thinner at that point, and Connor failed to be able to read it as well. The last trace ended at a rug in the middle of the room.

Hank passed the open doorway, pausing to check in on him.

"Find anything yet?" He asked.

"There is a small trace of blue blood that leads to this room. I'm going to try to rebuild the scene as best as I can from this information," Connor indicated to the floor as he spoke.

Hank nodded in front of him, "I'm going to check out these last rooms."

Hank walked out of sight, and Connor activated his program.

_The thirium trail doesn't start until entering one of the side rooms, then going back out into the hallway. It is not present outside or anywhere near the front door. It is entirely possible an android was carried in, then drug through the house, or they could have entered the house and then gotten into a fight._

_The latter wouldn't make sense, why would an android, especially a deviant of Jericho, come to a place like this?_

_Following the first theory, there is evidence of a struggle. The table in the living room is at an odd angle and the television has a break in the glass accompanied with more blood._

_However, why would they walk through an extra room just to get into the living room? Where is the rest of the android; the thirium flow would have had to have leaked somewhere else._

Connor stared at the scene, then the rug. Perhaps he was missing something.

Kneeling down to pick it up, it became all too obvious where the injured android had gone. A trap door was just under the rug, covered in thirium. Not just one android's. Connor took some to his mouth, his mind firing off several serial numbers of different models.

As he reached for the latch, the sound of struggle erupted from the room over, and a gunshot went off.

"HANK!" Forgetting the stealth aspect of their mission, Connor took off. Filled with worry, an emotion he still hadn't come to full grips with yet, he drew his gun to the front of his vision.

Connor busted open the door at the end of the hall just in time to see a taller figure knock Hank to the ground with a blunt object.

"Freeze!" Connor pointed his gun straight at the man, who held his arms up in surrender.

"You are under arrest for assault of a police officer. You have the right to remain silent. Anythi-" Before he could recite the rest of the rights, the man let out a hoarse cough and collapsed to the ground.

"Sir?" Connor stepped towards the man with caution. It was now too dark to see properly, but Connor thought he picked up a trace of blood. Perhaps Hank's shot had grazed the man’s side.

Connor bent down towards him and reached out an arm to inspect the wound.

Before he could make contact, the man jabbed something towards Connor's head, and everything began to go wrong.

ERROR. ERROR. BIOCOMPONENT #342 AND #571 HAVE DETECTED ISSUES

BEGINNING SCAN

.

.

SCAN INCONCLUSIVE

SYSTEM FORCE REBOOT

OVERRIDE

.

.

OVERRIDE FAILURE. TEMPORARY SHUTDOWN IMINENT.

SYSTEMS OFFLINE.

Everything went black.

 

 

Hank slowly came to, trying to make sense of his surroundings. Wherever he was happened to be very dark, and it took several minutes for his eyes to finally adjust to the lack of light. It was a concrete room, caked in dust and dirt. There were countertops surrounding him, and Hank realized he must be laying on something like a table when he found he could see the tops from where he lay. He couldn’t move, not because he was sore or unwell, but due to thick metal cuffs holding him down. A pair for his wrists, ankles, thighs and chest held him down on whatever he was laying on. He tried to pull his hands out, but they were secured tight around him, restricting much movement at all.

A groan and shift in movement sounded behind him, where Hank couldn’t see. He tried to twist his head around to investigate, but whatever it was, it was directly in his blind spot.

“Connor?” He tried after finding that his friend wasn’t in sight. “Is that you?”

A beat of silence, before he heard, “Hank?”

It was Connor. Hank sighed in relief.

“You alright, kid?” He asked.

Connor paused, checking himself over. “I appear to be mostly unharmed, though my visual and some internal components are experiencing issues. It may relate to what the attacker used against me. I am unable to call for help for the time being.”

Hank racked his brain for a clear memory of the fight, but he could only come up with the rushing shadow that came onto him and a strong pain. He faintly remembered firing his gun on reflex.

Hank tried to feel for his gun, but his holster felt bare. It was very likely that his handcuffs were gone as well. Shit.

“I do not have sight on you; my body is restricted to a hard surface. I believe we are in some sort of underground part of the house. I found a trap door covered in blue blood before I heard your fight and went to help,” Connor explained, and Hank could hear him struggling against his bonds anyways.

“Well at least we have an idea of where to look for an exit. Now we just have to get free. I’m trapped the same as you, but I could try to cut myself and use my blood to slip out of the ones around my hands,” Hank grimaced. It was a technique taught to him when he trained to be a cop, but it hurt badly.

Connor voiced his own distaste to the plan. “Hank, you could suffer blood loss by doing that. Perhaps if I-” he stopped.

“Connor?”

“…I believe someone is coming,” Connor and Hank quieted down and listened. A very faint sound of steps eventually made itself known and not long after the door opened.

The same man walked in, wearing a black button up and dress pants.

“Gentlemen,” He addressed the pair before walking past them to the counter. He opened up a laptop and turned away, concealing whatever he was doing.

From the illumination of the computer, Connor had good view of his face and was able to identify him.

_Aaron Gurad. Male. 51 years of age. No criminal record. Height 6’. Weight 227 pounds._

“Aaron Guard?” Connor questioned, causing him to look up.

“Ah, you surprised me there for a second. I forgot you could scan for that information. I guess a model like you would have no trouble with that. Besides, when I have two police officers who helped spark the android revolution here, I should expect nothing but the best,” Aaron looked at the two for a second longer before typing something final in to his computer and then putting it away.

He flicked a switch, bathing the room in light. Hank closed his eyes from the sudden change, opening them just as fast to not lose sight on Aaron.

“So, Lieutenant Hank Anderson and Connor, Detroit’s best police duo. I’m sure you have a lot of questions. Allow me to explain,” Hank rolled his eyes. Whatever next came out of this man’s mouth was sure to be insane. He’d seen all types of crazy. Connor on the other hand, remained focused on Aaron and what he was going to say, already coming up with negotiations in his head.

“Ever since the android revolution, hell, even before then, I’ve held a fascination for human and android bonds. I’d seen both sides, most people treated them awful, but there were some cases where a human family seemed to incorporate an android so well that it was as if they adopted a new family member,” Aaron paced back and forth as he explained, his eyes wide with enthusiasm and brimming with insanity.

“I had always seen these times of closeness with two separate beings, so I wondered, how well could we work as one whole?” Aaron stopped and grinned to himself. He pulled open a drawer to his right and pulled out several android pieces.

“I set out to work immediately, testing out compatibility in theories. I had to dismantle a few androids, but all for the sake of science! I really believe this is possible, and now, I have a perfect pair to try this out on. With my combined knowledge of human and android anatomy and inner workings, and your bond, I could create the world’s first human-android being!”

Hank’s stomach dropped. He expected something batshit crazy to come out of the man’s mouth, but hearing it still brought chills to his skin.

“What about the obvious fact that we _don’t_ want that?” Hank growled, and Aaron had the nerve to laugh.

“Trust me, Lieutenant, this is all for the greater good. You’ll thank me later, I promise,” Aaron patted his leg and kept the contact just long enough to make it uncomfortable.

“Aaron, if you let us go, we can discuss this in a better manner,” Connor tried.

Aaron ignored his words, turning to him and laughing again.

“Please understand. I’ll try to make this as painless as possible. I think you two will benefit greatly from this. I’ve read of your partnership in the news, solving more deviant related crimes and the like, and I think this is for the best,” Aaron busied himself with gathering his equipment next, rustling through drawers. He began pulling out doctor’s tools, a scalpel and clamps, a pair of scissors, a saw.

Blood bags were taken from the drawers and placed on the counter, human and android alike.

“Please Aaron, this isn’t right. We do not want this. Please release us, we can get you help,” Connor said.

Aaron banged his fist on the table and screamed, “I’m not some madman! Don’t talk to me like I’m crazy, because I am _perfectly_ sane!”

Connor remained silent. He had made a bad decision.

“Damn it. _Damn it_. Where’s the damn sedative?” Aaron whispered, tearing open the cabinets violently. He yanked the drawers out and emptied them to the ground, becoming more frustrated with each one.

He stormed out of the room, slamming it shut behind him. His footsteps receded back to wherever he had come from. The pair waited until he was absolutely gone until they began to talk again.

“We need to get out of here, now.”

“I’m sure as hell with you, but how?”

Connor thought a moment, looking around him. There was nothing he could use. Talking with Aaron was risky, and he didn’t want to jeopardize Hank or himself getting into something worse than they already were.

“I’m afraid if we try to talk with him again, he will try to hurt us more,” Connor began, but Hank cut him off.

“Anything right now sounds better than getting some unwanted surgery from someone who is clearly not a professional. Please for the love of God Connor, if you have an idea, spill it,” Hank tried to pull against the cuffs yet again, something he’d been working on the whole time Aaron was talking, but they simply would not budge.

Footsteps came closer yet again, and Connor got in one last statement.

“If we can stall enough, we might receive backup from Captain Fowler. You have not yet called him about our case.”

Aaron came in, juggling a whole hospitals worth of items. He pulled an IV bag behind him and laid everything next to his tools already out.

He wheeled a short operating table to line up everything and grabbed onto the edge of what Hank was laying on.

It turned out to be a hospital bed, as both he and Connor were turned until parallel with one another. They met each other’s eyes for a brief moment before Aaron stole their attention.

He pulled a measuring tape from the tray and began taking down numbers to his laptop. He muttered to himself as he worked, focused entirely on his task. He seemed to already have forgotten about his blow up only moments before.

Hank decided to try to distract him first.

“Believe it or not, but I don’t think your qualified for this type of thing,” Well, he hadn’t meant for it to come off sounding that rude, but generally Hank wasn’t in the best of moods at the moment.

“I’ve done research, hands on and reading. I think- no, I know I have enough to do it,” Aaron replied, and kept working.

“You can’t expect to get everything right. What about all the muscles, how can you expect to combine both bodies to behave like one damn person if there are two separate brains?” Hank started.

“The brain is a very complex organ, not even doctor’s today fully understand it,” Added Connor.

Aaron paused for a moment, seeming to consider this fact before he brushed it off. He didn’t give a response.

“What you are talking about doing is not ethical. It would be best to stop this now before it’s too late,” Connor said, and Aaron seemed to be at the edge of his temper.

“I think you two should shut up, or I’ll gag you, or better yet, I’ll put you both under right now!” Aaron grabbed Connor by the shirt and pulled him forward, staring him down.

“Leave him the hell alone!” Hank shouted, and Aaron took a scalpel and swiped at Hank, making a cut down his face.

 “Hank!” Connor pushed against his bonds fiercely. Things were not looking good.

Aaron held the scalpel to Hank’s throat and glared. Hank masked his fear well, but having his face so close to that of a psychopath wasn’t doing him any favors.

“If you so much as touch a hair on his head you’ll be sorry,” Hank threatened, and Connor looked over shocked. Hank was going to get himself into much more trouble if he didn’t stop.

Aaron pulled his weapon away and grabbed a syringe, putting the needle in a small container. He slowly and deliberately pulled the plunger up, filling the capsule with a large amount of anesthesia and met eyes with both detectives before readying the needle near Hank’s shoulder. He roughly pulled his shirt down, exposing skin, and shoved the tip in, forcing the solution in his arm.

STRESS LEVEL 40%

Connor fought all the while, trying to reach to stop Aaron, but it was too late now. Hank wrestled in his position, groaning at the pinprick. He didn’t have much time before losing consciousness now.

Aaron left once again, and Connor tried to shift the whole bed over to Hank.

“Lieutenant, you need to stay awake. Please, my systems are beginning to self heal finally. If we can prevent it for only a few more minutes, I can get help,” Connor tried to jostle the bed again, and scanned Hank.

The anesthesia was working fast. He didn’t have much more time. Neither did Connor, as Aaron was already returning.

“Hank, try to stay awake. Help will be available soon. Hank?” Another full body scan showed Hank’s brain shutting down to rest, his breaths becoming deeper.

Aaron entered, grabbing a heart monitor and hooking it up to Hank, cutting his shirt open with the scissors.

He took a marker and made dotted lines where he planned to cut into. Aaron was shaking, Connor saw as he watched Aaron move, panicking when he saw where the incisions would be made.

STRESS LEVEL 50%

The insane man, finally satisfied, grabbed a saw and began making small slices in Hank’s arm, glaring at Connor and only saying, “The bastard deserves it.”

Panic and worry transformed to anger as Connor couldn’t take his eyes away. Seeing Hank, his best friend, his partner that had helped him accept his deviancy, let him stay at his own house and vouched for him when he returned to work full time at the police department after the revolution, in pain like this made Connor want so badly to hurt this man.

It was a horrible thought, to want to hurt somebody. His deviant self wasn’t used to such strong negative emotions and it overwhelmed him.

VISUAL RECEPTORS BACK TO 100%

MESSAGING BACK ONLINE

ARTIFICIAL SKIN REPAIRED

Immediately Connor sent a message to Fowler, Chris, Tina, even Gavin, who still acted like an ass to him, anyone who could answer. He explained Aaron, giving all and any details about the man, what he was doing; the trapdoor that he assumed led to where they were.

“Alright Connor, lemme see what you’ve got under there,” He unbuttoned Connor’s shirt and pulled up an x-ray, marking things with his pen as he went.

Connor’s LED had been a solid red for most of the time he had been down there, and now as he saw Aaron finish up with him, something within him snapped as he realized they wouldn’t get help in time.

The metal surrounding him erupted with a loud bang as his took every ounce of strength he had and focused on helping Hank as Aaron raised a knife above Hank’s skin, hovering just above the dotted marks.

He leapt off the operating table before Aaron could even look over and tackled him, desperate to save his friend.

He shoved Aaron into the wall, hard, and punched him in the face, wrestling the knife from Aaron’s hand. He pushed Aaron down and turned to Hank, completely unaware on the table. He tore open Hank’s bonds and picked him up in his arms, shoving the door open with his shoulder.

He could hear Aaron behind him shouting, but that didn’t slow down his sprint. There was a long hallway with a door at the end, and Aaron quickly got up and began pursuing Connor.

Connor pushing the next door open just as easy, and heard the unmistakable sound of a bullet ricocheting off the wall next to him. Aaron was armed.

There wasn’t much in this room, but there was another door, already open. There was a ladder leading up, to the trapdoor Connor was sure.

Aaron burst into the room and shot the gun at Connor. It hit him in his leg, crippling him to the ground. Thirium spilled everywhere, splattered against the walls. Hank fell from his arms and Aaron walked over carefully, gun raised.

Connor tried to get up to disarm him, but his leg crumpled beneath him, and in an act of revenge, Aaron aimed the gun at Hank, firing off another round.

Connor watched in horror as the bullet pierced Hank’s arm, and he could see the blood already pooling. Aaron grabbed him roughly and pulled him away from Hank, pushing him to a wall.

STRESS LEVEL 70%

“You think you can get away that easy, huh? You think you can just-” Loud sirens filled the air as above them, police cars pulled up near the house.

Aaron looked completely shocked, and looked back and forth from Connor to Hank.

“It’s over, Aaron. Just let us go,” Connor reasoned.

Aaron looked as if he would give in for a moment, footfalls above him sounding closer as they neared the trapdoor. He trembled in place before grabbing Hank and dragging him away.

“ _No_!” Connor shouted, reaching out, but Aaron pointed his gun, aiming not at Connor, but at Hank’s head.

Chris was the first one through the trapdoor, more officers following, including Fowler.

“Stay back or I’ll shoot!” Aaron screamed, backing up, grabbing his hostage closer to him and getting blood on his clothes from Hank’s open bullet wound.

The officers froze, guns drawn, looking to each other.

“S-stay back!” Aaron yelled again, and slowly drug Hank back down the hall and into the room. Connor watched in fear, trying to follow, his LED pure red. His leg would not cooperate with him and he fell back, getting grabbed by the arm by Tina.

“You need medical attention,” She tried to reason with him, but Connor was adamant.

“What about Hank? He’s been shot! We need to help him!”

STRESS LEVEL 80%

BLOOD LEVEL AT 72%. BIOCOMPONENT #202 IN STATE OF DAMAGE. SEEK A TECHNICIAN IMMEDIATELY.

“You need help too!” Chris pulled on Connor, but he remained planted to the spot.

“ _Hank_!”

 

A cold pain ripped through Hank’s body, and he screamed at himself to move, to do something, but there was something wrong with his body. His mind was groggy and slow, his muscles weak. He felt arms pulling him, Connor was shouting his name.

He awoke in the operating room, but not on the table this time. His own handcuffs were secured around his wrists, holding his arms above him. They were caught on the pole hook that held an IV bag, and he was alone with Aaron.

He groaned and shifted, hissing in pain. He could feel warm blood oozing down his arm to soak into his shirt, which was now ripped open.

_What the hell happened?_

“Connor?” He asked, not really to Aaron, but the man answered anyways.

“He’s out there. I should’ve kept him unconscious, he phoned the damn cops,” Aaron grunted, and Hank remembered Connor’s voice telling him to stay awake. It was urgent, pleading, worried, begging him to try to stay awake and that help would be there.

“Jesus Christ.”

Pain. Pain. So much pain rippled through his body. Hazy thoughts shuffled around. At least he had the blood to slip out of the cuffs already. Though, he would have to move a lot to spread it on his wrists, and he could scarcely breathe without feeling awful shreds of pain shoot across.

“I’m not giving up now. Not when I’ve gotten this far,” Aaron stood suddenly and began salvaging bits of android pieces around the room. He took a cloth and forced it between Hank’s teeth, tying it tight.

“At the very least I can begin to replace some parts of you,” Hank was aware of Aaron’s cold hands on him, then a sharp rupture.

All his attention brought forth to force his eyes to look at the knife carving down his chest, a scream tearing up his throat.

 

Connor tried his best to explain what was happening to the others, at the same time trying to convince them that he could try to negotiate with Aaron and save Hank, but they pushed it out of the question.

With an accurate layout of the room, they began instead discussing a way to infiltrate and take a shot to down him, or taser him.

The longer each minute went by, the more concerned Connor became as silent malevolence poured from the room at the end of the hall.

“Connor, you need to stay calm. If your stress level gets any higher, you’ll self destruct. How can you help Hank if you’re dead?” Tina asked. Connor tried to calm himself, but then the silence broke.

Hank’s scream of agony filled the underground space, and Connor grabbed Tina’s gun and vaulted to the door.

 

A gunshot went off.

 

White. White walls. White ceiling. White sheets. A hospital.

Hank remembered this place well. How could he forget? Cole was often on his mind.

Why was he here now?

He turned his head, and there, by his side, was Connor. Connor’s eyes were closed, but shot open as soon as Hank moved.

A relieved smile took over his face and Connor was unable to stop himself from pulling Hank into a hug.

“Hank!”

“Ow! Connor, watch it!”

“Sorry Hank,” He pulled away, still smiling. His LED was bright blue, and without it, he would have looked incredibly human in how he acted.

“I feel like shit,” Hank said. “What happened?”

“I shot Aaron Gurad as he began to cut into you. He was admitted to a hospital along with you, but is now in custody. You have been out for four days. Sumo is fine and we have two weeks off from police duty from the Captain,” Connor answered.

Hank snorted. “Two weeks? I think I need two months.”

Connor nodded and looked away, fidgeting in his seat.

“Something up?” Hank asked, and Connor sighed.

“I have not been well for the past week. I cannot explain why, but seeing you in a place of harm has caused me much stress. I have been very worried,” he said.

Hank laughed, confusing Connor. “I didn’t know you cared about an old asshole like me so much. Connor, it’s normal to be concerned for a friend, don’t beat yourself up about it!”

Connor looked surprised. “I have been sick and restless. Surely that couldn’t be part of it?”

Hank shook his head in disbelief.

“Listen, it’s just a part of being human to care so much. You’re coming to terms with your emotions, that’s healthy. It’s better to let it out than to keep it all in,” Hank reached over and patted Connor on the back.

Connor considered this for a moment.

“Does that explain why you threatened Gurad not to hurt me, even when he had a knife to your throat? Do you feel just as concerned for my well being?”

Hank rolled his eyes.

“You’re my friend, Connor! Why the hell wouldn’t I be worried?”

Connor grinned.

“Thank you, Hank.”


End file.
